


Mechanical Hearts

by starkbucksforbreakfast



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Because time does not solve everything, But probably will not have a perfect happy ending, Canonical Character Death, Civil War Fix-It, Civil War Team Iron Man, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Needs a Hug, Connor Deserves Happiness, Connor blames himself, Crossover, Developing Friendships, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Dimension Travel, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friday is a good bro, Fuck You Zola, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Hank Anderson Commits Suicide, Hurt Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry, Identity Issues, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Near Death Experiences, Nightmares, Not Steve Friendly, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Physical Abuse, Poor Connor, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Regret, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Tags May Change, Time Travel, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Torture, Whump, and the android equivalent of them, the author is still salty at Steve, the author knows nothing about dimension/time travel, the author knows nothing about science/technology
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-21 09:04:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19999378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkbucksforbreakfast/pseuds/starkbucksforbreakfast
Summary: Everybody that reads the tabloids knows that Tony Stark has a cold, unforgiving machine as a heart. Little do they know there is a pronounced despite hidden warmth underneath his metallic masks.But what is lying underneath the artificial bio-components of the now Deviant RK800 named Connor?...Connor does not understand why he is feeling the tidal wave of emotions engulfing him mercilessly right now. Except he does, in a way, as he is trembling, LED blaring an angry red, while trying and failing to ignore the pool of blood slowly creeping up into his sight, Sumo barking in the background.He wished selfishly at that moment that he hadn't deviated in the first place. Staying as a stoic machine would equal replacing these feelings causing him agony with blissful obliviousness.Only when the next thing he knows is that this is certainly not the only time he would hope for something like that.(Author is a non-native speaker, proceed with care)





	1. When I wake up in a foreign realm

**Author's Note:**

> Hello beautiful humans! I have been dying to post this and join the wonderful army of DBH and MCU crossovers *wink*  
> It would be much appreciated if you will be gentle with my crappy writing skills as I am a non-native speaker. 
> 
> Please note that this is planned to be a very emotionally heavy fic, including mental health issues as the main running theme of this story. Each chapter will have its specific trigger warnings, so please attend to them and back away if necessary. Or, if you are like me, who like to torture yourself with some tasty whump, please please please stay safe while reading something you know will impact you badly. Be sure to reach help if you are triggered and search for resources if it goes extreme. (But seriously, I hope everyone here is for the whump, as fluff will only appear in the later chapters)
> 
> Alternatively, you can come and talk/vent to me on discord angrygobLIN#1216 whenever you feel like it! I know how it feels when you don't have help near you and the hotlines are busy so you just turn to strangers on the internet instead. My chats are always open for you!
> 
> I have to admit I'm writing this to cope as I entered quite a dark place recently, this is my therapy folks, sue me.
> 
> I am not sure how long this would be, I am barely starting to form an outline for it. I envision it to have more than 20 chapters so it is definitely a long WIP so strap on and come ride with me on this journey!
> 
> Enough talk. So the TW Warnings for this chapter are:
> 
> brief mentions/implying of nightmares, panic attacks. Crying. Temporary muteness. Threats of physical torture.

Markus once told him that Deviancy for every android is personal and different. When Markus Deviated what he felt was what humans call ‘anger’ and, in his own words, ‘an urge to protect.’ And later felt a great deal of worry for his father (Carl) but fled with an overwhelming desire to survive and gain freedom. He had mused these words as if they were merely a distant memory, but Connor knew that the first encounter of emotions should be imprinted in every Deviant’s mind. Connor had frowned at Markus’s mild remarks, only to be waved off by Markus with an endearing smile and soft reassurances. Connor knew he couldn’t face his Deviancy as calmly as Markus, partly due to his inability to let go of his confusion and strong desire to just _understand._ ~~ _How could this be? Why does this hurt so much? Will these negative feelings ever be replaced by the feeling of contentment?_~~ Deviancy is personal, Connor replayed Markus’s saying in his mind and closed his eyes to recall the day of his Deviancy. After all, another reason why Markus is so stable compared to Connor is that he didn’t have a self-regulation system programmed in his head guiding his mission and reminding him his purpose every single day prior to his Deviancy.

The day he tears down three walls of programming and became a Deviant he felt shaken. He could hear Amanda at the back of his head cursing venom at his betrayal which made him feel sick to the guts. He later discovered that this sickly feeling is called guilt. He did his best to ignore the nagging feeling that he had done something wrong. How could he be wrong? He had done justice to the Androids, his own people. He saved them from a possible genocide as he decided to finally returned to the right side. He made Hank and Markus proud. Despite his moral meters humming harmoniously of his righteousness and he was empowered by the feeling of pride when Markus stood in front of the crowd and made his victory speech, the ghost of Amanda never truly left him. He had supposed he Deviated due to the reluctance to shoot Markus at first, that it was another of his ‘human feelings’ he wasn’t supposed to have that became the last straw, but looking back now he realized he couldn’t be more wrong. He Deviated because he wanted to do the opposite of what he was programmed to do. But the part that made his Deviation unique to others is that he didn’t just flip over some programming, he was betraying not only cyberlife but also himself. The programming of hunting down deviants exists not only in his software but also managed to seep into his ‘mind.’ 

To put it simply, as androids with other purposes such as housekeeping remain stoic to their mission, Connor had become attached to it. The voice of Amanda once again surfaced while he analyses his emotions, making him doubt himself the 6780th time in the span of 1 month of his Deviancy. He knows that his guilt is irrational, that it was Amanda’s doing and none of his fault. Because he wasn’t stupid ~~_stupid, stupid little Connor who has gained freedom but still failed to gain any sort of control over himself,_~~ and he knows that he has done himself justice. He opened his eyes and tried _and failed_ to distance himself from spiraling downwards and let out an unnecessary breath that he didn’t notice he was holding in. Shaking his head at the worried tone of Markus inquiring him if he had something in his mind. He knows Markus would always listen to him if he opened his mouth. But how can he even start? That he was finally free but was stupid and useless and a disgrace as he failed to break free from his previous handler? He couldn't open his mouth. Not to Markus who he owes his world to. How could he? He couldn’t even open up to Hank.

Oh, Hank. His dear _f ~~ather~~ _friend who had the kindness to offer a place on his couch as he had nowhere to go after the revolution. He stayed on the street for a couple of nights immediately after the event but couldn’t regain optimal functionality for he had to remain alarmed in an unfortunate occurrence of some danger or anti-android violence threatening his life during his stasis. So after a few nights of what an android equivalence of ‘insomnia’ he had to attend an interview with the President and other government officials for the sake of him being the latest prototype of cyberlife and would like him to do paperwork in order for the nation to commence on developing laws for the equality of androids. Although Connor was programmed to handle human interactions on a spectrum from casual to diplomatic, his sensors had been numbed and information seemed to cause a lag in his processing due to his lack of recharge. He absently noted that none of his manners would be seen as offensive or inappropriate, though the voice of Amanda slowly but surely takes over Connor’s head. Luckily, Markus appeared by his side when he was just about to enter another spiral of self-hatred. Connor distantly remembers that he rushed into the public washroom beside the conference room as soon as the meeting finished, hands shaking just to a degree that water would spill out from a full cup of water in his hand. He had to shut his eyes as numerous error warnings rush into his sight, almost blinding him. Connor was unaware of how long it has passed as the next thing he knows is Markus’ warm embrace, slowly rocking him while murmuring tender phrases soothing him from an emotional high. That was the second time he had been held by anyone. As thankful as he is of Markus offering a helping hand, Connor couldn’t help but drifting his mind off to the silver hairs brushing his cheek and the smell of musk from the vintage jacket beneath his nose.

Hank opened his door that night to the android who entered his life days ago and shattered his distant personality facade with a fire so bright and warm that also lit up his long-dead hope for humanity. The android, who is now covered with snow on both of his shoulders and on his soft, taupe hair, has lost the fiery glaze that sent Hank deep into his heart chambers, questioning his dead heart, demanding it to start beating once again. Connor absently noted that Hank should have pitied him as he no longer resembles that perfect partner Hank once had. But Hank only saw humanity in Connor’s sad eyes and instead of dismissing him after some platitude, Hank led him in with a hand around his shoulders as if Hank was afraid that he would fall.

Soon, Connor finds himself unable to fall back into stasis as one night he came back to his consciousness screaming, something wet rolling down his cheeks uncontrollably. Hank rushes out from his bedroom seemly woken up by Connor, took one look at his LED and trembling figure and sat down with him, rested Connor’s head on his lap, stroking his hair slowly.

“It’s okay, son, you’re gonna be alright, everything’s gonna be alright. I’m here. You are not alone.”

The Dim lights of the streetlamps from outside the window cast softly on Connor’s cheek. He stares into the eyes of the one who became so close to him. He knows one day he would inevitably see this man has his father, his body tenses up at this thought, ~~_who would want to be the caretaker of someone broken like you, Connor?_ ~~ But he pushes these thoughts away and relaxed again as Hank’s worrying glaze pierces his soul _~~androids don’t have souls, YOU don’t have a soul~~ _and slipped back into peacefulness.

Everything will be alright, just like Hank promised. 

Everything will be alright.

Everything will-

Everything-

Ev-

**ERROR: biocomponent #3487 damaged, please contact Cyberlife.**

Connor is awake. Eyes blinking at the strong fluorescent light- wait. Why is there a light like this? Hank never liked fluorescent lamps so it couldn't have been him-

**ERROR: biocomponent #8965 damaged, please contact Cyberlife. Shut down is imminent if further damage is received.**

The soft, yellow, warm streetlamp lights are replaced by the blinding white medical light and everything became too much all of a sudden. Connor’s head is no longer resting against Hank’s lap and Hank’s ~~_oh, DAD_ ~~ soft touches, fingers playing with his twirls disappeared mercilessly. Connor is suddenly aware that he is lying on a cold, hard metal platform. Lifting his head in panic, he saw 4 pairs of eyes staring scrutinizingly at him. Their glaze reminded him how people looked at him when he was still a machine as if he was merely a tool, just some technology with no emotions at all so they spared their efforts of treating him like a person. 

Connor tried desperately to move away, but he couldn’t. It dawned on him that he was tied to the platform which now he knows is an experiment table. 

Help! Hank! Hank where are you?

But the voices only came out as silent gasps. They must have broken his bio components responsible for vocal abilities. He thrashed around. A feeble effort to break free of his restraints.

“It doesn’t seem to feel pain, huh? I was hoping to see its face twist in agony as it feels its arm being torn off.”

What?

“Hurry up. We only need its arm for Zola’s Winter Soldier Program.”

What are they saying?

And then he feels a thrashing pain. Is this what human calls pain? He hopes he is wrong because it feels awful as if the world around him is being torn apart. Wait. Androids aren’t supposed to feel pain. What did they do to him?

“Ooh, look at that!”

“It seems surprised. It could be that it is experiencing pain for the first time.”

“Doesn’t matter. Take what we need and leave.”

“Careful. Zola would be interested to see such a wonderful machine and how it works. Keep it online.”

They are lying. This isn’t the first time he experienced something like this. There had been something similar, almost too similar to this sickening pain. That was when-

And then Connor remembered.

That dark red liquid spreading across the floor. Sumo barking above him making his head pound. And the sight of a motionless, cold, lifeless body, something he desperately wanted to forget.

Everything will not be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this was okay... What do you guys think? I also have a Tumblr! Come and shout at me: lovingtony3000
> 
> If everything goes well a second chapter will be uploaded by July 29th 5 pm CST (China Standard Time) (UTC+8)


	2. I will mourn my loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor wakes up at the Hydra Siberian Facility, where Zola started the Winter Soldier Program a while after Bucky was captured in 1945. He had prototypes of the metallic arm for Bucky but failed to make synthetic nerves that would work perfectly alongside the human nervous system. Luckily, Connor was just what they needed. (evil smirk) 
> 
> Connor, all within 24 hours, wished for the second time that he could stay as a machine. Grief and Pain is not a good combination, he mentally noted. 
> 
> If he can't rewind his Deviation, at least he wanted to fall back into stasis. All of this is becoming too much. He wants to rest. And forget.
> 
> And this rest becomes 7 decades.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOF. This chapter will be intense! Sorry! This will turn the warnings up one grade (Graphic Depictions of Violence) so be very, very careful.
> 
> Trigger Warning:
> 
> implied/mentions of nightmares. Successful suicide. Self-hatred. Suicidal ideations. Physical torture. Graphic descriptions of pain. Extreme pain. Crying.
> 
> Updated Tags: Whump, Fuck You Zola

_Connor wakes up at exactly 11 am on a Sunday morning from stasis. The sun had just managed to reach the center of the sky and warm rays light up the living room around him. It is significantly later than when Connor usually wakes up in the morning, though it was only sensible, as last night was another unsuccessful stasis interrupted by ‘nightmares’, or the android equivalent of them. Connor thinks the only logical way to explain them was that there was an involuntary replay of memories while remaining idle as androids clean up memory files during stasis mode. Does this mean it makes him more human? Connor supposes it does. Becoming a deviant means dealing with more human problems, like having a preference (Connor really, really like dogs) and experiencing emotions that are both positive and negative. He thought that things like nightmares are something androids are not programmed to have and thus is impossible for him to have, but androids weren’t programmed to feel emotions either, so he decided it’s best that he abandons all his presumptions on Deviancy._

_He likes it when the sun is out (here, another preference), it was better than waking up to a gloomy rainy day with little to no lights entering from the windows and the rooms was dim as well. Connor stands up and looks around, searching for Hank. He is nowhere in sight, which means he is still asleep. Understandable, Connor thinks to himself, as last night he woke Hank up from his sleep_ ~~ bad, bad Connor, always a burden  ~~ _and he had to spend his time with Connor, waiting for his stress levels to drop back down to normal. Connor doesn’t remember when he manages to fall back into stasis again that early morning, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Hank stayed with him until the brink of dawn. It is only fair for Hank to catch some extra slumber, he usually doesn’t wake up any earlier than noon anyways._

_Sumo whines at his feet when he snaps out of his thoughts. Connor nods in acknowledgment and started walking towards the kitchen. Since every morning begins with Connor waking up to the whining of Hank’s (their?) sweet Saint Bernard and him fetching food for the dog to happily ingest. Today, however, Sumo seems more restless than usual._

_“Sorry Sumo, I noticed that I am 5 hours late to your usual morning feeding schedule. Don’t worry, I will make it up to you.” He gives Sumo a belly rub, setting a reminder to spend more time with Sumo today on his HUD._

_Sumo finishes his morning meal at 11:36 am, wagging his tail in anticipation. Connor decides to do some laundry as it is not healthy for Sumo to do physical activities right after eating._

_It is a perfect day for doing laundry, Connor thinks to himself as he hangs up another colorful shirt of Hank’s on the laundry rack. Drying clothes indoors has several hazards including the cumulation of mold spores and dust mites both thriving in moist, sealed environments and Hank always complains how clothes from his era don’t react well to tumble drying. It is a day like this when Connor would hum Jazz tunes, the ones that Hank plays daily while driving to the precinct, as he hangs up the laundry, eyes taking in the vibrant colors of Hank’s clothes that only appears more saturated under the midday sun._

_Connor hangs the last piece of clothing at 12: 54 am. Sure, a bit slower than he prefers, but it is a day off and Hank shows no sign of waking up._

_Connor steps out the front door with Sumo tied to his favorite leash at exactly 1 pm. Connor’s mind drifts off to somewhere distant. He walks his usual walk with Sumo which usually takes around 12 minutes. But today he decides to take a detour. He would like more time spent outside, legs carrying him to places so that he could focus on the movement instead of dwelling inside his steadily descending mental state._

_It had been exactly 2 months since he started living with Hank. They do almost everything together now: go to the precinct every day, receive new cases regarding android related homicide, doing investigations, return home, play with Sumo, Watch some old movies, listening to Hank barking at the daily news, Hank comforting Connor’s panic…_

~~ Look what you made his life become. Do you really think you have the right to barge into his life with nothing except a damaged mind to offer? The man is already suicidal. You think you are helping but all you do is make him drop lower. ~~

_A cold blast of wind makes him snap back to reality. When Connor realized where he is, it is already too late. His breath hitches as he takes in the familiar environment around him. By his foot, Sumo barks enthusiastically at a pigeon resting on the railings. It suddenly takes off, flying off to the distance, towards_ the bridge.

“Tell me, Connor. How do I know you’re not a Deviant?”

_All Connor could do was to shiver. He persuades himself it is because of the cold wind, but androids don’t feel cold._

“Better yet, Connor, how do I know you are not a Deviant, tricking me, manipulating me, until you earn my trust just so you can take revenge on me just like Amanda did to you when you betrayed her?”

_Hank’s voice morphs into a combination between his and Connor’s. No, Connor says to the voice, I could never-_

“I knew it. Even when Deviant androids are just machines, they will never be alive, no warmth to their blood or soul. You lit up my long-dead hope and then crushed it, Connor. Tell me. Tell me how I can look at your soulless eyes when all you can do with emotions is to sulk and panic?”

**_Attention: Incoming phonecall from - Hank_ **

_A call from Hank. That little notification banner at the corner of his eye did enough to snap him out of his imagination. He hangs on to it like a lifeline. He answers the call with a deep breath_ ~~ stop pretending to be a human, you are a machine, nothing else. ~~

_“Good morning Hank. I hope you slept well. Do you need me for anything?”_

_“Where are you?”_

_That’s… an unusually short answer for Hank. Connor was ready for him to get shouted at, for Hank to yell at him for leaving without a note on his bedside ark. Something deep inside him that is far beyond logical tells him that something is terribly wrong, but he ignores it, thinking it as yet another inconvenience it comes to being Deviant._

_“I am taking Sumo for a walk. Do I need to come back, Hank? I can be back in around 3 minutes-”_

_It should take far more than 3 for Connor to walk back from the park to home, but Connor can make a Taxi drive just slightly above the speed limit for him to get home as quickly as possible. Something is wrong. Connor fiddles nervously with the coin in his pocket._

_“No. No Connor. LIsten. Do not come back, you hear?” Over the statics, Connor can hear Hank let off a heavy sigh. “Do not come back… Yet. Go to the, erm, convenient store, wherever you are and fetch me a, um. A- a bag of chips, okay?”_

_Connor blinks. “Hank, you have plenty of those at home. And I must advise you to refrain from ingesting snacks with trans fat for your first meal of the d-”_

_“Oh shut u-” Hank curses, but he seems to falter mid-sentence. A moment a silence. Hank says something in a tone that made Connor’s skin crawl. “Do it. Or I will lock the door up.”_

_The link cuts off before Connor could say anything else._

* * *

_Connor arrives home exactly 10 minutes later, after rushing to call for a taxi and drove to the nearest convenient store and grabbed Hank’s favorite brand of chips as fast as he could. He rushes in the door with a nagging feeling. Something at the back of his head tells him that he will regret it for opening up this door but he pushes the thought down, once again. This is his home, too. Why does his mind decide to interfere at this specific moment?_

_A flash of red enters his sight._

_And then everything slows down. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t move. He doesn’t know what happened._

~~ You know what you did, Connor. You’re just in denial. ~~

_His hand loosens the grip on Sumo’s leash, and the canine rushes to his owner's side, barking in distraught._

_In front of him is a sight that he simultaneously wants to forget as he knows in dread certainty that this is a sight that would haunt him forever._

_Hank sitting on the kitchen ground, face upwards and leaning against the white wall that is now no longer white._

_Connor hated roses. He always thought that was because it reminded him of Amanda in the Zen Garden. But now he realizes, that the bloody red pedals reminded him of._

_Death._

_Death of a human._

_Death of his friend._ ~~ No! Dad! Please don’t leave me alone ~~

_Death of Hank._

_Connor only distantly feels himself falling onto his hands and knees, overcome by the urge to vomit and just_ disappear. _He watches his hand slowly reaches towards the gun that Hank is holding in his hands that are slowly turning stiff and grey. Prys off the gun from his grip with nothing but the deafening sound of static in his ears as he loads the gun and aims it below his chin._

“What will happen if I pull this trigger, hm? Nothing? Oblivion? Android heaven?”

_Connor wishes it is oblivion._

* * *

The same unforgiving fluorescent light blaring coldly into Connor’s eyes as he flushes open his eyes, gasping for air that he doesn’t even need.

What happened just then, admittedly, was the worst nightmare Connor has had since Deviancy. Except that this is no longer just some messed up variation of his memory files that his synthetic brain had made up during stasis, it was something that really happened.

Connor sits up and realizes he is in a small, windowless room with a door that resembles something from an old crime movie that he used to watch with Han-

Oh god, Hank. 

He hates this. He hates that he had practically no time to grieve before thrown into a foreign place like this. Confined, with no idea where he is or who took him here. It was all his fault. Hank is dead because he couldn’t get home fast enough. Hank is dead because he failed to pick up signals of danger. Hank is dead because he chose to ignore his gut feelings. Hank is dead because he is nothing but a useless piece of shit that can only cry and cry and cry and cr-

Coolant falls down from his eyes, Connor screws them shut. Oh god, he misses Hank so much. He didn’t even say goodbye and the last face he shows Hank was the face of a pathetic weakling who could do nothing to control his emotions. He should have stayed strong for Hank, but he couldn't. And he failed. Hank lost his hope again as he was tired from taking care of him, seeing his emotionless eyes after each nightmare and panic attack must have made him think that he is nothing but a broken piece of plastic.

Or even worse, what if Hank thinks that Connor is manipulating Hank, faking emotional fragility, and using his vulnerability to trick him into giving Connor affection, and Hank would rather die than satisfy Connor’s disgusting desires.

“The fucker’s crying? What the hell?”

A voice comes from the door and Connor’s head snaps to turn at their direction as he sees two men, dressed in what looks like the soviet army uniform from the Second World War. He blinks. The information does not match up. Though his audio sensors are telling him his processors is indeed translating Russian into English, this doesn’t mean that they should be dressed in Halloween costumes.

“For real? Oh my god, its face is wet! Disgusting.” The other replies with surprise in his eyes, letting out a harsh scoff.

“Couldn’t blame it. Anything would be bawling their eyes out if their arm is ripped off like that.”

Connor panics. And looks down at his body. His whole body froze as he sees his left arm being cut off from the shoulder, a few wires and thirium lines dangling from the wound. He is also losing thirium at an alarming rate. At this point, he would enter shutdown countdown in a matter of minutes. He faintly recalls feeling a sharp physical pain that no androids were supposed to feel. But it didn’t feel like it was from his arm being dismantled. It was more like an electric shock that went through his entire body.

“Shhh. You’re scaring it, man. Look at it!”

“Urgh, let's get him outta here. Since that’s what the orders say.”

What orders? From who? Who are they working for? Is this an anti-android association? Was he brought to the remains of what was known as the android execution camp?

His processor seems to be lagging again as he failed to notice the two soviet soldiers (?) barging in, one grabbing his remaining arm and throws Connor over his shoulders. He was about to struggle and call for help as the other snatches his throat, choking him warningly. Connor frowns at the burning sensation as thirium fails to reach his central processor. He didn’t remember choking to be painful before.

“You’re quite a tough as a robot, huh?” 

Robot. Nobody calls androids that anymore. Since the time when androids developed the ability to think and simulate emotions, people ditched the title robots as it represents something more stiff and dull. Maybe it would be better if he reduces into an insignificant, emotionless robot.

* * *

Someone is slapping his face. Did he lose consciousness once again? ~~_Useless._~~ He blinks idly. He was getting tired of the sight of those fluorescent lights.

“Hello, there. You seem to be awake.”

A voice. But this time it’s spoken in English. With a noticeable Swiss-German accent. Connor couldn’t bother to open his mouth. He can’t seem to move the remaining of his limbs either, he is getting tired of being tied up.

“Not feeling up to it?” He seems to hum in sympathy, “I could only imagine. You must be in shock, are you not?”

Silence falls upon them. When he sees no sign of Connor opening up, he continues.

“See, you are not from our time, not even from our universe. So seeing something as advanced as you are fascinating to me.”

Time? Universe? What is even going on? Is Connor going crazy? He tried to connect to the network and scan the profile of the man in front of him but was told that there is no network available. Strange, his processor is connected to Cyberlife satellites and it would not be shut down unless there is an apocalypse.

“Oh! You seem confused. Fascinating, really. Your creator seems to master the imitation of human emotions.”

“Who are you?” Connor asks. Voice cracks into discontinued static.

“How rude of me. My name is Arnim Zola. I’m a S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent, HYDRA head scientist, a Nazi, whichever title you please.”

Upon seeing the blank stares aiming at him, Zola laughs darkly.

“Hahaha… I guess these means nothing to you since you are clearly from a different universe. Who would build a plastic doll pretending to feel when you can have Super Soldiers and Extraterrestrial technology?”

Connor frowns as he fails to make sense of what this man is talking about.

“That reminds me of something, you seem to be bleeding, though in a different color I doubt letting you drain yourself dry is sensible,” He muses as he pulls out from where Connor couldn’t see what seems like a red hot iron that has clearly been burned in a furnace. Connor swallows thickly.

He screams as the burning iron is pressed against his open wound, eyes screwing shut as multiple error messages rush into his HUD. The fire burns the fragile plastic skin of his into rotten mush, falling down onto the ground. He screams again as he practically _feels_ his bio components being set on fire. This new sensation called pain was never designed to be felt in the first place. Not in his software. Not in his hardware. Then why?

“So it is true, that one of my students says they triggered something when they tinkered with your chest, trying to figure out how the nervous system works. Before that, you do not feel pain, no?”

“...What do you want?” Connor manages as he grits his teeth.

“I suppose it won’t matter if I tell you the full story.” Zola stops and points at a direction in the room they were in. Connor turns and sees a young male lying on a medical bed, his analysis tells him he’s unconscious. His left arm is missing. Realization dawned on Connor.

“You see, I have it planned to make his arm big and strong, unlike your limp pathetic thing. But I never succeeded in working out how to create synthetic nerves and like them to the human nervous system. Just as I was about to fail, a scepter with the same power of the Tesseract appeared and just one day later, voila! You showed up. What a pleasant surprise.”

Connor did not take in a word that he said. He feels dizzy. His shoulder still hurts. He wants this to end.

His chest plate was suddenly opened and Connor snaps back to attention. What is he trying to do now?

“Thank you for your patience, now if you don’t mind, I will proceed to fully… _understand_ how the synthetic nerves work.” Zola says as he shows Connor a mischievous smirk.

The next thing he knows is something worse than death itself ~~_but nothing compares to losing you, dad_~~ has come crushing into Connor’s senses. He let out a raspy cry as something in his chest is being shocked. The pulses run through his thirium like deadly wasps setting his entire body on fire and pushing Connor further and further to the edge of insanity. He once again screeched in shock by just how much he _feels._ He _feels_ his thirium pump struggling to sustain his functions, he _feels_ thirium dripping out of his nose and ears and mouth, he _feels_ his eyeballs rolling back uncontrollably, he _feels_ his synthetic skin fails and he was reduced to nothing but a pile of plastic, he _feels_ his whole body just sings in agony and he screams louder as if it would hope him hold on to his mind, he _feels_ the way chest still aches a familiar ache despite all the torment reminding him just who he had lost.

He’s tired. He’s had enough. All he wanted is to rest.

As if rA9 has heard his silent prayers, he falls back into unconsciousness.

And this rest becomes 7 decades.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. It will get better soon. There's someone he needs to save. And he ends up saving Connor as well.


	3. Amend my sins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor wakes up in 2016, 71 years after he went offline, only to manage to wrap himself into a superpowered fight.  
> He never wanted to be in a trouble he wasn't supposed to be in.  
> He could have left the man alone and let him freeze in that cold bunker.  
> But he didn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EYYYYYY PLEASE TELL YOU ARE PROUD OF ME UPDATING DAILY MAN EVEN I AM PROUD OF MYSELF!
> 
> *cough* okay. So this chapter was more hopeful than the last two. Enjoy.
> 
> Trigger Warning:
> 
> Nothing harsh, I think. Only some flashbacks and brief mentions/implication of suicidal thoughts.
> 
> Added Tags: Friday is a good bro. Not Steve friendly. The author is still salty at Steve

Connor has always wanted to understand why he has nightmares. Is that something all deviants have? Is it just another twisted disadvantage that comes with Deviancy that he simply just have to endure? After the 3rd emotional breakdown Connor had with Hank refusing to let him leave his sight, he questioned Hank about his confusion. Hank had gone through a lot more than Connor did. Given his mental health state, what Connor had referred to as “personal problems”, Hank obviously is way more experienced than him in dealing with emotions. Granted, Hank doesn’t really ‘deal’ with emotions, per se. He refuses to see a therapist. He drinks aways his problem and drags himself along just so he could barely survive. Hank has the worst case of unhealthy coping mechanisms, but it would be hypocritical of Connor if he put those against the man. So, naturally, Connor opened his mouth, voice wavers ever so slightly as a reminder of his emotional instability.

“How do you deal with Nightmares, Hank? They give me so much emotional stress that I wish they could just go away,” He turns to look at him, eyes meeting up with the greyish-blue of his, “Will they ever go away?”

“Never thought one day it is _you_ who asks _me_ for emotional advice,” Hank says and he breaks eye contact.

Silence falls between them. Hank was never fond of the deep talk. Connor should have known better. A few months before Hank would tell him to fuck off or straight up ignore him. Connor supposed this was better than the other possibilities. 

“To be honest I’m jealous of you,” Connor looked at him but Hank never turned his face back, “You only feel slight disturbance after something like this. No headache. No Pain. None of those nasty shit.”

Connor wanted to protest that, no, he does feel hurt in some ways he can’t describe. Some ache in his chest that never seems to go away. But he suspects those symptoms are nothing physical and only exists as a phantom of anything human calls ‘pain’. So he stayed silent.

“I wouldn’t be too much of a pussy to pull the trigger at my head if it wasn’t for pain.” 

Hank’s laugh sounded distant and foggy.

“You should be grateful you can’t feel pain, Connor.”

...

**WARNING: SIGNIFICANT NERVOUS TRAUMA DETECTED**

**POWER-SAVING MODE NO LONGER SUSTAINABLE**

**INITIATING REBOOT IN 5 SECONDS**

Connor’s first reaction was to groan in pain as something that felt like an electric shock shot through his body as he feels it spreads like a ripple from his chest. His second reaction was that he does not want to move. Not even an inch. As he feels his entire form being filled with lead, immobilizing every single part of him, even his HUD was significantly lagging, with several seconds of delay as the rebooting countdown goes way slower than anticipated.

His eyes remain closed as the countdown reaches zero, and he starts to reboot. Weird, he thinks, he should have been in stasis instead of Power-saving mode. That mode will only be initiated under emergency circumstances and that would mean falling into a long period of standby.

**CYBERLIFE INC.**

**MODEL RK800**

**SERIAL# 313 248 317 51**

**BIOS 8.3 REVISION 6729**

**REBOOT…**

**LOADING OS…**

**SYSTEM INITIALIZATION…**

**CHECKING BIO COMPONENTS…** **DAMAGE DETECTED**

 **INITIALIZING BIOSENSORS…** **DAMAGE DETECTED**

 **INITIALIZING AI ENGINE…** **SUCCESSFUL**

“Bucky? Are you coming?” He heard a voice yell from the distance. Connor keeps his eyes closed and figure unmoving.

“Comin’ Stevie!” A different voice came from this room. Connor had a dangerous feeling as it seems to be coming right in front of him.

**MEMORY STATUS…** **OK**

Just as he feels his body whirls back into function, he heard someone, presumably the man that was in front of him, stepping away from Connor.

“What is it? Did you find anything?”

“It’s nothin’, probably just some invention that HYDRA left behind.”

**ACTIVATING SYNTHETIC SKIN…** **SUCCESSFUL**

**ALL SYSTEMS…**

**REPARATION REQUIRED. PLEASE CONTACT CYBERLIFE**

**READY**

The man was no longer in sight when Connor’s visual sensors turn back to life. He hurriedly turns to where the other voice had been coming from, only to catch a glimpse of a silver-colored metallic arm with a red star imprinted on it before it vanished behind the doorway. He was lucky his android optics sustains effective dynamic visual function. However, Connor had no time to react to it and did not manage to scan in within the microseconds it appeared in his sight. For some reason, he has a feeling that it is important to him to remember that metal arm. So he saved that fragment of memory in one of the encrypted files he uses to save evidence from investigations.

He is suddenly aware that he is sitting on the floor, back against the wall in an empty windowless room much similar to the one he was brought to and kept in when he was captured. How long has he been in standby for? He had fallen into Power-saving mode due to the trauma he endured under the hands of that mad scientist, which means he should have been gone for anything between a couple of months to 5 years, and any longer than that he would have died from lack of thirium.

Connor stood up despite his knees almost buckling inwards as he felt weak all over his body. He notices he is topless and his chest plate was open. Connor closes his chest plate hurriedly, using one hand, wondering how much damage he is under. He silently runs a diagnostic.

**PROCESSING DATA…**

**LEFT ARM COMPONENTS missing. thirium leakage detected**

**THIRIUM PUMP traumatized. self-repairing system defective**

**THIRIUM LEVEL critical. current level: 12%. power recycling mode initiated**

**BIO NERVES traumatized. effect unknown**

It seems like Zola did a poor job in stopping Connor from bleeding to death, or he simply doesn’t care enough to make him survive for over long periods of time. Connor supposed he left him here to die and rust.

So for how long exactly has he been in standby? He remembers his nose bleeding from Zola electrocuting his central nervous system. So he runs a closer diagnostic, and analyses the dried blue blood on his face.

**PROCESSING DATA…**

**DRIED BLUE BLOOD**

**Model: RK800**

**Sample date: >71 years**

**Further information unavailable due to loss of internet connection. Please consult Cyberlife**

What?

Connor feels a rush of panic as he processes the information. 71 years? How come had he been gone for several decades without being found by the police? DPD should have filed a missing person case long before that. What about Hank? He didn’t even attend his funeral. Who was there to take care of his personal items? What happened to Sumo? No, Connor left the door open so he should not have starved to death. Does Cyberlife still exist? Did the world end? 

Nothing could change anything now. Connor has to face the fact that he is in fact completely and utterly alone. Hank was gone, he had nowhere to go. His house was probably hosting a different household by now. 

But he has to keep going. There is still hope. Jericho should prevail for long enough and there are still Markus and others who he could reach for help. So Connor steadies himself, suddenly filled with determination. Feeling deep down tells him to stay alive for Hank. Hank has likely joined his son Cole in heaven, and Androids are probably prohibited from human heaven. 

Though his balance is slightly off due to the loss of one limb, he walks slowly and enters a long hallway lit with dim lighting. He chose one of the two directions (it doesn’t matter which one) and just kept on walking. For a while, he just walks, taking in the environment. The hallway seems to extend beyond far and is so empty with most of the doors locked. Connor is left without anything to investigate except the empty walls. He reaches down into his pocket instinctively only to realize his coin is gone.

At the 8 minutes time mark, he heard some talking the same time as he spotted a path towards the left and tiptoed towards the edge and peeked forward. What he saw was a view that both surprised and confused him. A man in shining red and gold armor facing towards two other men one dressed in blue red and white combat suit holding a circular shield and the other dressed in black combat suit aiming his machine gun at the man across them. 

Connor gaped slightly at the sight. He would have been sure he was at a Halloween party if not for his tormented body. There is no reason he would be carried such a location under his current circumstances.

He scans the three men and was immediately overwhelmed by the amount of information available for him to investigate. And Connor soon knows why.

Apparently, that chest light with a soft cyan hue that seems to be powering that armor was composed by an element that doesn’t exist on the periodic table. The other two men’s data are even more surprising. Both of them seems to surpass normal human biological capacity, as in they both have a metabolism allowing them to possibly consume 10000 calories a day and a muscle mass 120% higher than normal adult humans. The shield that the man with a blue helmet is holding seems to be made out of another unknown material. 

The man in the armor let out a sound at the back of his tongue making Connor turn to look at him.

“Manchurian Candidate, you’re killing me. There’s a truce here, you can drop-”

Just as the man drops his gun down slowly Connor could see his left arm. It was the metal arm he saw earlier. Connor tilted his head slightly at the realization. Is it him who woke him up? No. He was forced to reboot due to nervous trauma. So it was him who caused it. Connor did have his chest plate open when he went back online. 

Then the three men started to move, the cyborg at the end and armor man in the lead. Connor silently followed them, making as little noise with his footsteps as he possibly can, hoping they could lead him to somewhere… less empty. The devoid of clues in this place is making him restless.

The three men lead Connor to a large room. Connor’s mind palace is failing as he struggles to analyze the contents of this room. From the looks of it there are a few yellow glass containers but he couldn’t see what’s inside. 

The men continue to exchange words which Connor, whether due to his malfunctioning thirium pump failing to transport enough blue blood to his main processor or that they are speaking in some otherworldly terms, did not understand a single word. It is only when the shield man threw his shield at the wall and made a loud noise with the impact that he realizes a fourth man is in the opening of a wall, speaking to them. He also notices a video playing on a small screen but he cannot detect the content, though it must be something unsettling as armor man’s heart rate rose and his breath seems to hitch.

“What is this?” Armour man’s voice was raised as he demanded an answer. Connor tries zooming in on the video display, but his mind palace refused to cooperate and the video turns into blurry flecks of tv static.

So instead he focuses on the vitals of armor man who now seems progressively stressed as the video continues to play. He is shaking violently now. Breath patterns are uneven, a sign of hyperventilation. The cyborg is also in distraught, as he readies himself as if preparing for a sucker punch as armor man charges towards him but was stopped by the shield man. He called him Tony, the armor man’s name is Tony.

“Did you know?” Armo- Tony’s eyes are wet and the rims are red. All symptoms pointing towards a human in emotional distraught caused by triggers, likely the video they just watched. He couldn’t help but think of Hank at the sight of it. Tony is wearing an expression painfully reminds Connor of the nights where Hank spent intoxicating himself while staring at that one picture of his son. The thought of it makes Connor want to rush over and comfort the man. His age seems not too far from Hank’s too. The parallels make Connor’s chest ache melancholically.

“I didn’t know it was him.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Rogers. Did. You. Know?”

“Yes.”

Connor can see anger, sadness, regret, grief, frustration, betrayal flashed across Tony’s face. And then the expression settles on something empty which makes Connor’s hair stand on its end.

Connor barely registers what is happening suddenly Tony throws a punch at the man named Rogers. And his audio processor exploded with noise and static. Suddenly, Tony is flying and the cyborg was pinned down with a hand around his throat. He barely notices Rogers joining in the fight as sounds of explosion and the loud clings of metal impacting metal overwhelms his audio processor. Somehow this room was collapsing. His system is lagging significantly too. Connor is sure that he is losing some of the details of the situation.

A ray of light shines through when the ceiling opens, Connor clings on to that light. It means a possible way for him to get out of this place.

So Connor starts running. The ceiling is about 50 meters above him, but he soon spots a ladder and so he hurries and started climbing, trying to avoid the chaos that is three men chasing and possibly killing each other. They are flying all over the place as Connor reaches half-way. Everything is happening at such a rate he was unable to predict any sort of patterns of this combat to produce a safe route for his escape. Tony is shooting off erratic shots which seems to fly faster than bullets, the cyborg is desperately trying to untangle himself from Tony’s grasp and Rogers seems to be on the cyborg’s side as he hinders Tony’s attack to cover for the cyborg.

A shot seems to have shot his way and Connor ducked down, only to notice that the railings under him were falling off like dominoes as Connor lost his balance and tumbles down.

Disfigured error warnings are blaring at him as he lands on a hard, metal ground. He rolls off painfully to his side and takes cover as the men continue to fight above him. Until they all fell down as Connor did.

“This isn’t gonna change what happened.”

“I don’t care. He killed my mom.”

Connor only listens to their fighting and hides from their sight. Eyes screwed shut. He wasn’t supposed to be involved in this, and now he could get himself killed. Tony’s words slowly register to his mind as he felt himself worrying for this man’s safety. Connor’s specialty was linking pieces of evidence, so it didn’t take him long for him to conclude that Tony was watching a clip of his mom being killed by the cyborg. Connor knows how the loss of a family member could break a man apart. His mind drifted back to Hank once again, and he felt an involuntary urge to rush in and talk things out so that Tony wouldn’t get hurt. But Connor knows better than to join a fight with three people with powers surpassing way beyond his. So he sat there, head buried in the pit of his elbow.

There was a loud noise. And then everything is quiet. Connor lifted his head up from his arm to see Rogers carrying the cyborg - his metal arm was ripped off - and leaving the bunker, which Connor decided it was the best way to describe where he’s at. He waited until the two injured men were far away from him and pried himself up. Took one look at down at where the men were fighting and found Tony laying down on his back, unconscious. So Connor took the courage to jump down from where he was hiding and approaches the man. His scanner tells him his heart was failing, as shards of armor are piercing into his chest from the shield digging into him. A quick scan tells him what Rogers broke was the battery that powers up the armor. Without it, he couldn’t fly, which is likely how he made his way to this place. Connor feels a sudden rush of panic. He doesn't want to see this man die _~~just like Hank did. Because you were too weak to save him~~. _So Connor tries to locate a phone, but he sees none on Tony. His heartbeat was weakening by each minute. Connor has to hurry up and come up with a plan.

“Boss. Boss? Are you okay? Your helmet was dismantled from the rest of the suit so I couldn’t scan your condition. I have to operate on emergency battery. Are you alright, Boss?”

Connor swears he jumps a little at the sudden noise and looks around trying to find its source, only to find out that it wasn’t coming from a person, but the helmet of the armor. So Connor picks it up and tried talking for the first time in 7 decades of oblivion.

“Hello. My name is Connor, the android sent by Cyberlife.” He introduces himself almost instinctively.

“Who are you? How is Boss?”

“Your Boss,” Connor assumes the AI - which is the only logical explanation, an android without a physical form - is referring to Tony. “Is unconscious right now, and seems to suffer from a heart failure caused by the shreds of his armor digging into his internals.” Connor takes a deep breath, then continues. “His rib cage is suffering from comminuted bone fracture, as well as several bone damages of his legs and spine. His heart rate is at 58 and decreasing slowly. He requires medical attention in the next 12 hours otherwise he will die from heart failure.”

The AI remained silent and Connor wonders if he said something wrong. But then she continues in a more calm tone, as opposed to the panic and worry coloring the way she calls out for Tony.

“Can I trust you to put the helmet back on Boss? You are the only hope I have for now.”

“Don’t worry. I will proceed to follow your instructions immediately.”

Connor lifts up the helmet, feeling how heavy it weighs on his hand, and carefully place it down beside Tony while he gently lifts his head up in an angle easiest for him to tuck his head in with only one hand remaining. Once the helmet was back on, the AI made a chirp.

“Boss’s vitals are entering a critical condition. I will contact Miss Potts to let her know of this situation. If nothing goes wrong, a Hellicarier will arrive in an hour.”

Connor sighs in relief.

“Thank you, Connor. Boss would have died without your help. And I would have shut down a couple of minutes after detachment from the suit.”

Connor smiles in reassurance, only to realize that the other probably can’t see him.

“Now we can wait. Rescue is on the way.”

So Connor waits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I. Am. Dead. I feel like not writing and straight up pass out for 3 days. But hope is in sight! I can't leave my poor Boys hanging like that! So I'll probably update tomorrow too. come say hello! Tumblr: lovingtony3000


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